Beat the Best
by Dream.Write.Live
Summary: stronger female love interest for the boys of Never Back Down. more complex history too. more info inside, read it cuz i love it and you should too!
1. Hate

**I am in love with the movie Never Back Down, and Cam Gigandet/Sean Farris (two of my favorite actors of all time) being in it make it sooo much more amazing! I prefer stronger female characters though, so this is my remix of the movie relationships. Maybe a one shot, maybe more if I get good reviews!**

I looked up at the ceiling. My jaw hurt like hell, but I'd live... He pulled me closer into his side. The heat of his rock hard abs soaked through my splayed fingers. He rolled over, putting me half under him, his face buried in my neck. I sighed, he chuckled.

"You like that, hm?" I could only nod as I felt his lips press to my neck.

"And that?" my head bounced up and down as he kissed me again. I felt his grin as he nuzzled my hair, shifting his weight, and placed a knee on each side of my thighs. He leaned down, and captured my mouth with his own, not waiting for me to part my own lips, but forcing his tongue inside. What seemed like an eternity shrunk into a second later, he pulled back to breathe.

"I know you liked that." His cocky grin stopped me from having to lie again. He pulled my arms up above my head, holding me captive. I looked up into his face, anxiety building in my stomach. What did I do to deserve this?

~*~

On my wrist is a tattoo. People always want to know who _Sonny _is. "You're boyfriend?" they always say. Their stupid looks that read "What a fool, it'll never last". They could never understand. Sonny was 16 the day he died. The day I lost my older brother; the day I lost my whole family to be totally honest. My father drank himself stupid, my mother gave up her own life in her pain. I… well I can't blame her. I lost a little of myself that day.

It was his own stupid fault, how many times had I begged him not to go to the clubs? To stay away from those pathetic boys with nothing better to do then make each other bleed? But he went anyway. And he won. He always won; my brother was the best fighter that underground of amateurs had ever seen. But the kid he beat wasn't a very gracious loser. Put a gun to Sonny's head. I wish it'd been mine.

At his funeral, Sonny's fighting friends came to show their respects. I remember watching the faces of everyone around me. Hearing them whisper _Poor things in shock, look how she doesn't even cry? _I wasn't in shock. I didn't cry because I had no reason to. Crying is for the sad. I wasn't sad, I was angry. And I stayed angry.

At the end of the funeral, Sonny's friends came to talk to me. I was at least two years younger than any of them, but still the only one of the family to ever meet even one of them. I always went to the matches, whether I wanted Sonny there or not, I was loyal to a t. Ryan, his closest friend, hugged me. I remember that clearly, because Ryan doesn't hug people. He hits them. Frequently. With joy. But he hugged me that day, and every day after that too. He picked me up for school in place of my brother, he came to my soccer games in place of my brother, he beat up the jerk that dumped me in front of half the school at my junior prom, in place of my brother. For a long time I tried to pretend he was my brother. It just made things so much simpler to lie to myself. To ignore all the times I caught him staring at me. To tell my friends he was just doing me a favor, since he and Sonny were close. To tell myself he thought of me as a little sister… even though the truth was far from it.

After I graduated, I wasn't sure what to do, where to go. I never liked the idea of college, what was a C average kid like me gonna use another certificate for anyway? But I wanted out; the house I grew up in wasn't home anymore. It hadn't been since Sonny… I never really had to make the decision though. Ryan took me to dinner that night, since he was the only person close to me that came to the ceremony. That was the night things started to change. We sat down at this little outdoor café and, as usual, Ryan got straight to the point, without a second of hesitation or emotion.

"So, you moving in with me now or what?" I remember not even looking at him. I just smiled a little, looking at the cars passing in the street, and said,

"Yeah, you win, I'll bring my stuff over tomorrow." We made small talk for the rest of the evening, exchanging opinions about his last fight, and his next one. When he went to take me home, he stopped outside of my house like usual, except this time, his goodbye was different.

Normally, Ryan would make some stupid remark about how ridiculous it was that I still slept at this address, even though I did all of my school work at his place, hung out and ate all my meals at his place, and left half my crap there on a regular basis. Then he'd give me this awkward hug, which I'd try to get out of pretty fast unless I was having a bad day, and he'd hold on to for as long as possible. That night, like I said, it was different.

"Why don't you just grab a bag and crash at home tonight, I'll drive you back in the morning to get the rest of it." I did look at him this time, thinking it over. Why not? So I grabbed my stuff and got back into the truck a few minutes later. When we got to the loft he had downtown, Ryan didn't get out right away.

"Welcome home, baby." He gave me that grin. The one he always wore getting into the ring, when he's sure he's gonna win. It made my pulse jump about ten notches, and half a second later he was pulling my stuff from the back seat and bounding up the steps of the building. I didn't really recover from that statement that night. Probably why what ended up happening, did. _Home… _it felt good to say that, finally, and believe it. But what really got me, was the _baby _part. I had a feeling that was coming. I just wasn't prepared for how soon. And the surprises just kept coming.

When I walked through the door, Ryan wasn't in sight. Which was odd, considering the only parts of the loft you can't see from that standpoint are the bathroom, and the bedroom; which both lie behind closed doors.

"Ryan?" that's when I heard my stuff hit the floor in the next room. _The bedroom. _And Ryan walked out from there, already down to just the sweatpants that are his normal attire when it's just the two of us chillin'. He must have seen the look of apprehension on my face cause that was when he said the words I'd been fearing,

"I'm not letting my girl sleep on the couch, Princess." How I hate that nick name. How I hate that title. And oh, how I hate fighting.

~*~

**Hope you all enjoy! Rate! Comment! Pleeease!**


	2. Instincts

**Alright, I just like writing this so I'm gonna keep going… thank you to maddielynn2730 and Emzy2k8 for reviewing, it's really encouraging!**

That first night was awkward. Okay, awkward is putting it nicely. It was damn irritating is what it was. Ryan pulled 'the yawn' to get his arm around me TWICE, and when WWE RAW was over, it would be bedtime. All I wanted to do was curl up and die. No matter what I said, he wasn't letting me spend the night on the couch. Not even one.

So I was pissy all night. I felt sorta bad. He was trying hard, at least for Ryan, to be sweet. But it just made me nervous. I'd be getting all comfortable, and then he'd take WAY too much advantage of my leaning towards him. I was finally relaxed until the pay per view ended.

"Bedtime, princess!" he winked at me. Winked! He started stretching and got up off the couch, heading towards the kitchen to toss his beer bottle before going to bed. Normally, I'd appreciate the view of the flexing muscles. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm fully aware of how ridiculously sexy Ryan's _always been, _probably why I let things get so far with him, but I just wasn't interested in being someone's 'girl'. I had better things to occupy my time and thoughts with. The club, work, fighting… the list was endless. Add a man and it all gets complicated. No thanks.

"Okay um… I'll just finish the dishes… and I'll be in!" I knew it was lame and he rolled his eyes, but it gave me a few more minutes to figure out how to deal with the current predicament. I took my time, and I heard him go in and out of the bathroom. A few seconds later, the bedroom light went off and he hollered for me to hurry up.

The light from the street lamps was sending prison cell patterns across the carpet as I padded into his… _our _bedroom. I froze at the foot of the bed. His eyes were closed, his hands behind his head, the sheets laying loose down by his hips. I almost wanted to shut my eyes and pretend he wasn't there, pretend he wasn't taking up half the queen sized bed we had to _share. _But I couldn't do that, and I went to change. I came back in my tank and pj pants, suddenly wishing I wasn't so uncomfortable sleeping in my bra.

I slipped under the comforter, leaning on the outside of the mattress, and after a full minute, started to relax. I barely got a breath before the springs creaked, my only warning before Ryan's strong forearm wrapped around my waist, pulling me solidly into him. I squirmed immediately, to no avail.

"Ryan, I am sooo not doing this." I tried to keep my voice even, but how strong can you sound when both you and the one you're talking to know you are fighting a losing battle. I'll tell you right now, the worst feeling in the world is getting in a ring, knowing you're going to lose.

"Baby, you already are… damn you smell good…" was all I got out of him. I tensed up, waiting for his next move, but it didn't come. He buried his face in my hair for a moment, and then rested back on the pillow and was out in a few minutes.

I was uncomfortable at first, and then... well, he was_ so warm. _I was angry at myself the next morning when I woke up wrapped around him, but really, could you blame me? Maybe fighting this wasn't the smartest way to go after all…

~*~

If only I'd gone with my instincts. In a fight, not relying on your gut can lose you a match. Good instincts make good fighters, make good winners. But ignoring them… well then you end up like me. Beat. Whipped. Stuck.

Six months passed that way for me and Ryan. It was good, too. And then I lost my job at the restaurant, and picked up a bartending spot at his favorite club. A few weeks later I got tired of the drop in my income, and did something I swore I never would. I stepped into a ring, and lost my life to fighting - for the second time.

**Quick note : I realize I didn't say this before, but in my story, Ryan and Jake are out of high school. I always thought they looked too old anyway, so my backdrop is clubs and underground rings, instead of school. Thanks!**

**Hope you enjoyed this one! Let me know if you did! I'm already working on 3 but it's not going up without more reviews! Haha, loves,**

**Dreamer**


	3. Never Ever

**Warning! I know next to nothing about fighting, if anything in this story offends people who do, don't flame me please! Constructive help is appreciated, I want my writing to be accurate, but this isn't a novel people! Thanks!**

That night changed everything.

I'd been watching the rosters for days, waiting for a slow night that I could enter back in without causing too much attention to be drawn to the fact that Sonny's baby sister was coming home. Too bad I underestimated my brother's fame.

I scheduled to get off that night an hour early, changed out of my 'uniform' for the bar – the cheapest low cut dress I owned – and headed toward the pit where the fighters waited for their matches. Wouldn't you know I hardly got out of the locker room before I had a beer shoved at me, accompanied by back slaps and kisses all over. God, I hate fighters.

I was seated at the back of the pit, checking out the fight currently in the ring, when Ryan sat his ass on my table.

"Babe! Why didn't ya tell me you were coming to watch…" then he saw the gloves in my lap. The morph in his expression was interesting to watch; surprise, anger, fear? And then there was that infamous smile of his.

"Well damn! Here we go." He ran off to check rosters for the bitch I was fighting, and within minutes was back. His face was pale, my stomach pitched.

"What?"

"She backed out, Princess. You're not fighting the amateur anymore."

"Well who the hell am I fighting then?!" this wasn't good, if I went down too hard, Sonny's rep would go down with me, I'd probably lose my job too…

"They call her the Charmer. She doesn't move much, puts people on edge, makes them nervous. Then she hits, I don't think she's ever gone more than two rounds… are you ready for her? Baby, the last girl that fought her was in a hospital for weeks. I don't want you fighting her." By that point I wasn't even listening, just staring across the club at 'the Charmer'. She couldn't be that good, way too many scars on that ugly face. I could take her.

"… alright. I'm gonna go take you off the roster. No one will blame you, hell that last girl almost _died."_

"I'm gonna fight her." It was all I said, but he knew I was serious. I pulled my gloves on as they called my name, and I climbed into the ring.

"_**And in the other corner, Little Miss Starshine. For you newer folks out there, this would be our favorite little sister of Mr. Sonny 'Eclipse' Miller, greatest fighter this ring has ever seen, may he rest in peace. Fighters and onlookers alike, I give you Baja Miller!" **_ The club was silent for half a second before the roar started. People were on their feet, shouting, knocking beers everywhere, shoving for a better look. Well so much for keeping this quiet. I made a mental note to knock the announcer out if I won.

Ryan was in my ear at the corner, giving me tips and suggestions I already knew by heart. As I flexed my hands, rolling my neck, warming up, I got the oddest feeling. Standing here, in the ring, getting ready to fight, felt so _right. _Like I was returning to the love of my life after too long a separation. It's a dramatic metaphor, but it's true. Even as the thought went through my head, Ryan stopped his whispering in my ear, and grabbed me by my shoulders, blocking my view of the Charmer.

"You're gonna kill out there baby, make him proud." I looked up into Ryans face, and for the first time in years, I felt myself smiling and laughed. I must have looked just like him before a fight. At that moment he got real serious, and I sobered.

"You look just like Sonny… you'll win like him too." He nodded to himself like he was agreeing to his own statement, and rolled out under the ropes. The bell rang. Here we go.

That night, laying in bed, a million thoughts crossed my mind. Firstly, the Charmer was not that great of a fighter. She was slow, heavy in her swings. She'd jab right too wide, and I'd be up under her left side with an uppercut before she could recover from her miss. It was beautiful, Ryan said. I was a natural. That shocked me when he first said it. But he was right, I _felt _natural. The match was quick, hell it wasn't even a match, just one round. She tried to pull some fancy spin and sweep on my legs, I wasn't ready and went down hard. My eyes blacked for a split second, and the next thing I knew, her fist was colliding with my jaw. Well that just pissed me off. I don't really do mix ups, but damn did I have her on her back fast. Two hits ended it, me hitting her, her hitting the ground.

It took me a moment to realize she wasn't getting up, and then my fist was pulled into the air, my winning was being announced and all these random people were swarming the ring. I was overwhelmed to the point that I pushed away when someone wrapped their arms around me to lift me up. Then I realized it was Ryan, I knew that conceited chuckle anywhere. That's where he shocked me. I didn't even get to breathe, and his lips were crushing down on mine.

"I knew you could do it, Princess." He smiled, all confidence and bravado. I didn't get a chance to respond, before he hauled me into the locker room to grab my things, and we got out of there, fast.

I didn't say a word on the way home, just let him ramble about my technique and hers. I really only listened to the part when he said I'd done Sonny proud. That made me almost cry, and I was running up the steps to the loft before Ryan could see me.

When he came in, I was in the bedroom, my forehead pressed to the cold class of the window, watching rain trickle slowly down the pane. He came up behind me, wrapped his arms around me, and tried to kiss my neck. I shoved his hands a way, walking into the main room. I heard him groan in frustration, and could feel the fight coming. We'd been doing this tug of war on each other's emotions for weeks now. Ever since I'd started working at the club he'd been dropping silly sexual hints, and getting… braver at night. We still hadn't managed to get another bed, much to my dismay whether we had the room or not.

"What the hell is your problem Baja?! You ought to be on your knees thanking me for all the shit I've done for you, and I can't even get some goddamn appreciation!" that got under my skin, I never asked him for anything, he always offered, now he was regretting that?

"You've got to be kidding! All my shit I got on my own, Ryan and if I'm so much of a burden maybe you should just kick me out!" in the back of my mind, I was desperately hoping he wouldn't take me up on that, but my stubborn pride wouldn't let me say so.

At this he just glared for a moment. And then,

"You stupid bitch, you wouldn't have anything without me. That job at the bar you have because of me. You don't have to live with your drunk ass father because of me. Hell, you survived Sonny's death and high school on top of it, _because of me. _Don't you ever disrespect me like that again." His tone was quiet, but deadly.

I suddenly understood why people on the street were so afraid of this man I'd known since I was a kid. He was dangerous, and I was screwing him over. Royally. If what he was saying was true, and that little voice of reason in my head was whispering that it was, I owed my life to him. And what was he really asking for in return? A chance at the title of being my one and only. Plus the benefits. Which he already was, I was just too damn proud to admit it. I was beginning to realize I had to fix this, and it was going to be painful, and humiliating, and he was going to get a hell of a lot of satisfaction out of it, but I still had to do it.

So I did. He walked across the kitchen and pinned me to the fridge, like a freakin' post it note. Arms locked at my side, his face half an inch from mine, he repeated himself,

"Don't. You. Ever." He was glaring me down, and I caved, for the first time I truly let myself go against my instincts. I kissed him, hard. He didn't need a second to think before his body was crushed to mine. I had closed my eyes in fear of his reaction, but I didn't need to see, to _feel. _To feel his hands traveling down my sides, or grabbing my ass, or pulling me up to lock my legs around his waist as his tongue explored my mouth. When he pulled away, I was gasping to breathe, my fingers tangled in his hair and he whispered,

"Let's get you cleaned up…" before carrying me through the bedroom, both of us stripping clothes as we went, ending up in the shower. Of the things that happened in that bathroom, all I'm saying is the steaming water coming out the faucet wasn't the hottest thing in the room.

~*~

Now, far too late to go back and rethink my actions, I would rather he put me on the street that night. I made a lot of mistakes, not the least of which was reentering a world I had no sane reason to be in. Not the greatest of which being involving myself further with a man I had no sane reason to be anywhere near. But if I hadn't gone into the club that night, if I hadn't caved under Ryan's pressure afterwards, if I hadn't kept fighting, growing my name, honoring my brother's, I sure as hell wouldn't have wound up handing a drink to this kid, a few weeks later, responding to his 'Baja like Mexico?' question with,

"Like my parents smoked too much weed." For which I was answered,

"I'm Jake."

**So there we go! Hope you all enjoyed the installment, keep ME updated with your thoughts and feelings on it! Loves,**

**Dreamer**


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